The Difference
by Verenda
Summary: VB. Songfic based on the Matchbox Twenty song of the same name. Vegeta reflects on a life with Bulma. Please R&R.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to DBZ or Matchbox Twenty. But I love each almost equally.

Before you read: I wrote this songfic a while ago... I don't remember when. If you see anything that doesn't make sense or just doesn't seem right, feel free to tell me.

**-The Difference-**

He stared into the dark, almost black water. His reflection stared back at him - but was darkened by the night - his dark side. Yet it showed the same expression of sadness that his own face showed. But his face hardened and glared at the reflection of the man behind him.

"Vegeta," Goku said placing a comforting had on the older man's shoulder.

Vegeta shrugged it away. "Don't touch me," he warned coldly. But his eyes still showed the confused sadness and grieved look.

"Vegeta," Goku repeated, pleading a little more sternly. Vegeta only turned away and sat on the grass, cross-legged, his elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled. When his eyes weren't closed, they were glaring at the water.

"Look at them," Vegeta finally said when he realized that Goku wasn't going anywhere soon. "They act normal, content, as if her death meant nothing to them at all," he said with a slight twinge of anger, referring to the numerous people standing in ChiChi's yard.

"She was a friend to all of us, Vegeta. Of course her death affects us."

Vegeta snorted. "You're so fucking ignorant. I hope your living extremely happily," he said sourly. After he received only a confused stare, Vegeta continued. "Even at the wake held in your honor, they were sorrowful. And they considered you a 'friend'."

The word sounded as if it had a double meaning, and Goku sighed. "I can't explain why everyone holds me higher than any other person. But I held Bulma in the highest respect. I still do. She was the first person I ever really trusted and she was always optimistic, like a sister. It's a possibility that they actually are hiding their sorrow. She kept us all together."

Vegeta sighed this time. He could hate his rival and deny his words all he wanted, but they were true. Then he stood and turned to face Goku, a defeated expression showed in his eyes. "You're right, Kakarot. Every word was true. I needn't dwell on her departure," he said plastering a half- hearted smile on his face. But it was forced, like the words.

Goku smiled back, unable to see through the mask of happiness the Vegeta had just put on. "I really do understand how you feel, and I too feel the same way. ChiChi's not going to live much longer. I can tell. And one by one it'll only be you, me, and all our children and grandchildren."

Vegeta nodded and watched as Goku left with one more smile, over to a group of people who willingly accepted him into their conversation. It was amazing how no one seemed to hate the man. Even Vegeta himself felt a little less loathing toward the younger Saiya-jin. Absurd.

He stared up at the twinkling stars and realized that he'd had too much of this happy unhappiness. It seemed like the ideal time to leave. When he became conscious of this, he saw his son standing about four feet away, staring at the same set of stars.

"It's strange. You know, how she's not coming back anymore." Trunks said dreamily. His eyes never left the star-dusted sky.

Vegeta walked over to where his son stood and stared at the stars with him. "I know." His voice was distant, as if not his own. The pair was quiet for a while longer, leaving each other to their own thought. "I'm going home." Vegeta finally said.

Trunks just nodded slightly. "Bra's over with Pan. I don't know if I'm going to leave just yet."

Vegeta nodded this time and was suddenly caught off guard by his son's next question.

"Do you miss her?"

Vegeta thought long about this question. "I do. I've missed her for a long time." At this sentiment, Trunks gave his father a questioning glance. "You'll understand when you've lived with someone like her for so long."

With that, Trunks nodded and Vegeta walked over to where his daughter, as well as everyone else stood around and talked.

Bra looked up when she saw her father walking toward her. She easily saw the sadness in his eyes. They reflected her own.

"Let's go home." He simply said, not even noticing the other people around.

Bra nodded solemnly and walked next to her father. "I'm ready to leave."

Vegeta gave her a quizzical look. "You're not going to say good-bye?"

Bra looked at her father as the pair walked off to where Trunks stood. "You don't. Besides, I'll see them some other time. Unlike . . ." her voice trailed off and she looked bleakly at the ground.

"I know." Vegeta answered. "Do you want to drive us home?" he asked, not wanting to dwell on his other thoughts.

Bra shook her head. "I'm a little tired right now. Could we fly?"

Vegeta smiled at her. "Sure."

Just before he took off with Bra in his arms, Trunks stepped over to them. "Mind if I come too?" he asked.

Vegeta just smiled and the three of them flew off into the night, none of them saying any good-byes. While in the air, Vegeta stared down at the young girl in his arms. She looked almost like a carbon copy of her mother. During the flight, he realized that Bra had been crying earlier. Her closed eyes were red around the edges; she'd been rubbing them. Otherwise, she seemed peaceful, content, sleeping in her father's arms.

No lights were on at the Briefs' residence, typical of a family not at home. When Vegeta landed, the girl in his arms stirred, and awoke soon after. With a slight yawn, she was placed back on the ground and dazedly walked with her father to the door. Trunks followed behind slowly, he too somewhat tired.

The inside of the house was quiet save for the soft hum of an air conditioning system. The lights blinked on with a flick of the switch. Vegeta stared at the kitchen table.

"Dad . . ." Bra's voice sounded small, as if she were a little girl again. "I'm going to bed." She stayed until she received a curt nod from her father, and turned to go up the stairs.

Trunks sat down at the table Vegeta stared at for so long. Neither of them said a word to the other. They had no words to say.

Suddenly, Vegeta moved to a closet and retrieved a leather jacket from it. When his hand reached the doorknob, he heard a voice from behind him.

"Where are you going?" Trunks asked aloud. His father rarely left without someone knowing, in his own lifetime anyway.

Vegeta didn't move or say anything for a long time. "Out." He finally said and left through the front door.

As he walked down the street on a cracked sidewalk, only memories came to mind. He stopped for a few seconds, a shadow in the dim moonlight overhead, and gazed at the house he had left. A reminiscent look seemed to cross his face.

_Slow dancing on the boulevard  
In the quiet moments while the city's still dark_

"Come on, Vegeta. It's not like it'll kill you or anything." Bulma's voice rang through his ears. She grabbed his hand in hers and stepped out onto the front lawn. A quiet melody played in the background, probably from the front porch.

Wrapping her arms around his neck she nuzzled her head against his chest. His own hands wrapped around her waist and the pair swayed to the music.

"This is nice," Bulma said quietly, closing her eyes.

Vegeta couldn't help but smirk.

"I love you."

_Sleep-walking through the summer rain  
In the tired spaces you could hear her name_

Without warning, tiny droplets of rain began to fall on the warrior. The rain didn't seem to bother him though except that he wrapped the jacket more tightly around himself. The rain was oddly cold for a summer month.

"Bulma," Vegeta said out loud, not even meaning to. It had been the first time in a whole week since he had said her name. He hadn't said it after she'd died. But something inside him forced the word out, forced him to speak her name one more time.

_When she was warm and tender  
And you held her arms around you  
There was nothing but her love and affection_

He longed for her touch by the time he walked back to his home. He was past the point of want now. Now he needed her. He needed to feel her lips on his, her hands on him. But that was lost. Everything seemed lost.

'I loved you. . .' he thought for the first time in seven days. The thought had not until now crossed his mind. How was he supposed to move on if she kept haunting his thoughts?

_She was crazy for you  
Now she's part of something that you've lost_

The bedroom still smelled of her sweet scent. It seemed to linger possibly because Vegeta didn't want it to. Everything stayed as it had been the day she died. Another reason one might not have been able to let her go.

Vegeta suddenly felt angry at himself. Angry for not being able to do anything. Angry for not saying anything. Someone could have helped. Maybe he wanted it this way. Maybe this was what he had wanted ever since living on the wretched planet.

"Maybe I wanted you to die."

_And for all you know  
This could be  
The difference between what you need  
And what you want to be_

Though in reality, things might have seemed as if Vegeta had never wanted Bulma around. But thoughts and dreams opposed this.

That night, his dreams were as vivid as real life. They weren't exactly dreams though; they were suppressed memories. Like earlier when he walked the night-time streets.

_Night swimming in her diamond dress  
Making small circles move across the surface_

"I want to go somewhere." Bulma suddenly said one quiet afternoon at the Capsule Corp. residence. She seemed extremely happy, like her own mother.

"Hm." Vegeta responded. He was focused more on reading whatever it was that he seemed to be reading.

"Y'know, get away from the kids. My parents can handle them for a while."

"Where do you want to go?" He asked glancing at her.

"A secluded area. Maybe an island or something."

The dream suddenly shifted to a night scene in a very placid looking cove. The stars shown brightly overhead, and Bulma bobbed in the water, smiling at Vegeta.

"Come on, Vegeta. There's nothing wrong with the water. Why don't you come in too?" She continued to smile up at him, while he stood on the sandy shore.

_Stand watching from the steady shore  
Feeling wide open and waiting for_

Bulma suddenly disappeared, typical of a pleasant dream, leaving nothing but the clear sky and water, and her soft voice.

_Something warm and tender  
Now she's moving further from you  
There was nothing that could make it easy on you  
Every step you take reminds you that she's walking on_

He shot out of bed at the sound of an alarm clock going off in another room. Bra. He closed his eyes and remembered the vivid dream of his beloved. But it was just that. A dream. And she was still buried in the cold ground, dead. He took a long hot shower, still thinking about her and everything that was hers.

'Maybe I never told you enough. I did love you. But love doesn't bring the dead back does it. If it did, you'd have never died in the first place. If only I could have told you that I love you.'

_Every word you never said  
Echoes down your empty hallway  
And everything that was your world  
Just came down_

When he finally made it downstairs, he expected to find no one, an empty kitchen. Instead, he found both of his children, one making coffee, the other staring out into space.

"Good morning, daddy." A little girl's voice made him look again to the coffee maker. Of course, she wasn't little anymore. The young teenager was growing up very fast and resembled her mother almost exactly. He had seen the same thing the previous night. And he longed for his dead wife again.

"Good morning," he said to both of the children. But Trunks didn't seem to notice. He continued to stare out the window at nothing in particular. His mind was on an extremely different topic. He suddenly spoke up.

"Why can't we bring her back with the Dragonballs?"

Vegeta sighed. "I thought you knew." He sat down next to his son. "She died of natural causes. We can't bring someone back if they've died of natural causes."

Trunks seemed to immediately look downcast at the sleeves of his jacket. "I wish we could," he said in a dream-like state. His voice was distant like it belonged to someone outside the family. It seemed like it wasn't even his own.

"I know." Vegeta stood up and walked to the closet in a daze, searching for his jacket. He found it immediately and headed for the door.

Trunks blinked at him. "Going for another walk?"

Vegeta just smirked and headed out the door.

_Day breaking on the boulevard  
Feel the sun warming up your second-hand heart  
Light swimming right across her face  
And you think maybe someday  
Maybe someday  
For all you know  
Yeah for all that you know  
This is what you want to be  
Yeah what you want to be_

_

* * *

_

Rereading this makes me a little depressed. It was such a beautiful idea in my eyes. Feel free to give me some feedback!


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